


Cold Feet

by tiger_in_the_flightdeck



Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, More Fluff than Smut, Post-Case, Story: The Adventure of Charles Augustus Milverton
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-02
Updated: 2015-11-02
Packaged: 2018-04-29 15:47:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5133227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tiger_in_the_flightdeck/pseuds/tiger_in_the_flightdeck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set immediately after The Adventure of Charles Augustus Milverton. Holmes is still reeling from witnessing a murder, and Watson is more than a little unhappy from his face first descent into a thorn bush followed by a two mile sprint in only one shoe. </p><p>A fill for my Halloween Trick or Treat fest on tumblr</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cold Feet

**Author's Note:**

> This is more fluff than smut.

Holmes sprang like Jack to the top of the wall and over it. I was close behind -not quite so gracefully- when a hand closed around my ankle, trying to yank me back. I kicked out behind me and heard a howl of pain. Our pursuer let me go but not before he pulled my tennis shoe from my foot.

I toppled over the edge into the bushes and Holmes grabbed my hand to help me upright again. We sprinted off over the Heath, keeping close. After we got far enough away, he brought us to a stop to let us catch our breath. While he was doubled over gasping, he noticed my socked foot.

“You lost your shoe?” he demanded.

“It was taken from me!” I pressed my hand to the stitch in my side, choking for air.

Holmes knelt in front of me and unlaced my other shoe. Tugging it off, he hurled it as far as he could into the water. “Lower your trousers a couple of inches to cover your feet.” he ordered and took my elbow before leading the way back to find a cab.

Back in our rooms, Holmes drew the blinds and lit the lamp so he could see how bad the scratches were on my face and neck from my trip through the thorn bush. My jacket and hat had taken the brunt of the damage. I was chilled from running nearly barefoot through the cold. Holmes knelt in front of my chair and stripped off my soaked socks, draping them over the grate to dry. Chafing my feet between his hands, his eyes were wide and darting.

“They won’t be able identify me using just my shoe.” I assured him, cradling his head in my hands. “He wasn’t shot with my gun. None of it leads back to me. Only you would be able to make that connection.”

Holmes shook his head and sniffed, his focus more on making sure that I was unharmed from the night’s events. “You could have been caught. A step slower, and he would have dragged you back.”

“Could have, but I wasn’t.” I rubbed my hands over Holmes’ cheeks and down his neck to warm him as well. “The worst that happened is some cuts and scrapes, and a hurt foot.” I wiggled my toes to show that despite the pain, everything was still in working order. Holmes still looked to be hovering just on the edge of panic.

“I put you at risk.” he mumbled.

I rolled my eyes, not wanting a repeat of our earlier argument. I cut off the words with a kiss and pulled him up into my lap. “I put myself at risk. I court prison everyday. Willingly.” I wound my arms around his slender waist to hold him close. “Eagerly.” I pushed his shirt up his back, trailing my fingertips over the soft, cold skin under it. “Happily.” Kissing the side of his throat, I was careful not to nip or suck, as much as I wanted to. “Excitedly.” I shifted forward in the chair, guiding Holmes’ legs around my waist. His rump fit into my hands, perfect to lift him up as I stood. It hurt too much to walk up to our bedroom, so I bore him down to the floor in front of the fire.

Kissing him, I refused to allow my mind to think of everything that had transpired during the night. The shots, the blood on the carpet, I tried to banish it all in favour of the look of satisfaction on Holmes’ face when he crept through the dark. The excited thrill I felt, watching him work. The pride and admiration. That was what I allowed myself to remember.

“I never would have let him catch us.” I said into his mouth before rising to my knees to strip us both out of our remaining clothing. I massaged my palms over Holmes’ belly and up his chest and bony shoulders. “I will never allow anyone to blackmail me because I love you.” The closest I had ever come to that was my literary agent desperately pleading with me to be more delicate in my descriptions. “Nothing will stop me from loving you, Holmes.”

Holmes blinked rapidly, his eyes shining in the firelight. “Don’t say that.”

I linked our fingers together and pinned his hands to the bear rug. “I’ll say it as often as I please, because it is true.” Kissing down Holmes’ chest, I sucked a tiny mark over his heart. Even if his shirt collar was open, it wouldn’t be seen.

He wrapped his legs around my waist, his ankles crossed at the small of my back, but kept his face turned away from me so I wouldn’t see the tears in his eyes. “Stubborn man,” he muttered before inhaling deeply through his nose and turning back to me. Holmes lifted his head to find my lips, tightening his fingers around my own. He lifted his hips, tilting them at just the right angle to bring our cockstands together.

We were slow, taking our time with taking each other apart. From time to time we stopped moving completely in favour of kissing and holding each other. Through it all, I murmured my reassurances and love into his ears.

We fell asleep there on the floor, Holmes gathered close to my chest. Mrs. Hudson brought us our breakfast, prodding me awake with her foot as she stood over us with a tray in her hands. “It seems that the pair of you worked hard last night.” she smirked, setting the tray down on the table and tossing a blanket over our still naked bodies.

We both blushed and hid our laughter under the blanket, sounding for all the world like a pair of naughty schoolboys.


End file.
